


Change of Plans

by space_boye



Series: Distinguished husbands + UNIT = shenanigans galore [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Coma, Comatose Doctor, Established Relationship, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Near Death Experiences, Serial: s056 The Mind of Evil, Sort Of, Telepathy, Threegado, Time Lord Biology (Doctor Who), i honestly don't know i'm doing my best, its because GAY, probably, shits weird man, the master has a breakdown and probably needs a hug, unit is very confused about why the master cares so much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_boye/pseuds/space_boye
Summary: One second. Two seconds. Three.No heartbeat.Alternate timeline set during The Mind of Evil where the Keller Machine harms the Doctor even more than before. The Master is very Worried.
Relationships: Third Doctor/The Master (Delgado)
Series: Distinguished husbands + UNIT = shenanigans galore [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762138
Comments: 13
Kudos: 52





	1. Heartbeats

A faint click echoed through the process theatre as the Doctor was handcuffed to the treatment chair. He scowled, first at Mailer, who was the one handcuffing him, and then at the Master, who was looking rather proud of himself at the moment. 

“May I ask the purpose of this charade?” 

The Master chuckled and dismissed Mailer, sending him outside the room. “As you see, I have affected the necessary repairs. But before I let you control this machine for me, which I fully intend that you shall, it'll be very interesting to see exactly how long you can hold out against it.”

He leaned over and fished around in the Doctor’s pockets. 

“Now somewhere here you have - Ah ha!” He pulled out the telepathic device and held it proudly in front of the Doctor’s unamused face. “Now this little device, as you know, transmits and amplifies the power of the machine. What you may not know is that it can be adjusted to turn that power against the wearer, like so!” The Master placed the device behind the Doctor’s ear as the Doctor gave an exasperated sigh.

“You know, this is all rather tiresome,” the Doctor said, raising his eyebrows pointedly at the Master, who’s malicious smile did not waver as he hovered over his so-called enemy.

“Is it? Oh, I really would like to stop and watch your nightmares.”

  
  
“Then why don't you?”

  
  
“I have other business as you know,” The Master stepped away from the Doctor and gave a disingenuous gesture of civillity. “Will you excuse me?” With that, the Master left the room suspended in partial darkness, as the Keller Machine whirred to full power.

  
  


\---

  
  


When the Master had returned to the process room, the power of the Keller Machine was nearly deafening. Prisoners in the surrounding area were starting to be affected, some having collapsed to the ground, clutching their heads in pain. The Master furrowed his brow in concentration as he entered the room, struggling against the power of the machine as he made his way to the control panel to shut it off. When he finally managed to hit the switch, he breathed a sigh of relief as the pain subsided. His relief did not last long, however, as he moved over to the Doctor’s form slumped over in the chair. The Master quickly sat the Doctor upright and removed the telepathic device from behind his ear. Procuring a stethoscope to listen for signs of life, the Master placed it over one side of the Doctor’s chest and listened closely.

One second. Two seconds. Three.

No heartbeat. The Master’s own hearts raced, worry drawn across his face. He moved the stethoscope to the other side of the Doctor’s chest. Another three seconds passed, and there were still no heartbeats. The Master frantically pulled the stethoscope away, his mind and hearts racing. Did he kill his dear Doctor? No, no, he can’t have, he couldn’t have done that. The Master firmly thumped his palm against the Doctor’s chest, attempting to restart his hearts. 

“Is he dead?”

The Master whipped his head around to see Mailer standing by the door to the process theatre, who must have entered without him noticing. He quickly shook his head, avoiding eye contact with the man. “No, no, not quite, wait outside.” Mailer obliged, nodding his head once in acknowledgement and exiting the room. 

The Master turned his attention back to the Doctor, still unconscious. He thumped the Doctor’s chest twice more and listened for his hearts. There was still nothing. The Master was growing more frantic by the second now, as the thought that maybe he really  _ did  _ kill the Doctor pushed through to the forefront of his mind. His eyes quickly darted around the room, scanning for something to help. Finally, he spotted it: an AED device. He raced to grab it and held the defibrillator above the Doctor’s chest, powering on the device. 

He mentally counted down to the first shock, wincing as the Doctor’s body convulsed automatically from the electricity firing into his nerves. His hearts weren’t going yet.

A second shock was sent through the Doctor’s chest, still to no avail. The Master started to lose hope.

“Come on you stubborn bastard, don’t die on me yet.” he pleaded quietly as he shocked the Doctor one last time. The Master placed the stethoscope once again over the Doctor’s chest and listened. One second, two seconds,

“ _ Ba-dum” _ _  
_ _ “Ba-dum” _ _  
_

_  
_ The Master never thought he’d be so relieved to hear the echoing sound of Gallifreyan heartbeats. The Doctor was still unconscious, but he was alive. Thank any Power there may be in this Universe, he was alive! The Master scolded himself for caring so much and letting it interfere with his plans, and lightly smacked the Doctor’s face to rouse him. However, the Doctor did not awaken. The Master tried again, shaking the Doctor’s shoulders. 

“Doctor? Doctor, wake up, come on now.” The Doctor still did not wake up. The Master frowned. This could be worse than he thought, which frightened him. He placed his hand lightly on the Doctor’s temple and closed his eyes, focusing. 

There was no resistance whatsoever from the Doctor’s mind as the Master entered telepathically, which was worrying. As the Master explored his mind, what he found only confirmed his fears. The Doctor was alive, yes, but every neural process that wasn’t essential to survival had been switched off. 

It was almost as if he had regenerated all over again. 


	2. One blasted thing after the other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart arrived at Stangmoor prison, fully prepared to carry out a trojan horse style plan to get his troops inside, he was not expecting to be let in without any hesitation or check._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka the master is doing his very best to not succumb to an anxiety attack in front of UNIT and is struggling. Jo is starting to understand, although she had a sneaking suspicion since the Doctor said that he was "quite looking forward" to seeing the Master again.
> 
> not beta read because i am a coward but i tried to edit it

When Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart arrived at Stangmoor prison, fully prepared to carry out a trojan horse style plan to get his troops inside, he was not expecting to be let in without any hesitation or check. In fact, nobody was at the gate to stop the disguised truck, and when the Brigadier cautiously led his soldiers inside, the group was only met with empty silence. 

The Brigadier radioed the sergeant he had positioned outside on surveillance. “Dead empty in here,” he said in disbelief. “Anything odd on your end? Over.”

“Just got in reports that a large group of presumed prisoners have been spotted about a mile out in an armed vehicle. I don’t believe there’s anyone inside there with you, Brig, over.”

The Brigadier sighed and shook his head, before radioing back. “Alright, split your team and send half to help the others assigned to the armed vehicle, and keep me posted if you spot anything. I’m going to do a sweep of the area to check for anyone of importance. Over.”

“Copy that sir, over and out.”

He turned to his soldiers, who were standing around in the courtyard anxiously, awaiting orders. “Alright boys, split up into pairs! I want a full sweep of the prison area for anyone who may have stuck around! Yates, you’re with me.” He was met with sharp salutes as the soldiers efficiently paired off, with Captain Mike Yates stepping forward. 

“Any idea where Jo or the Doc are, sir?” 

“I haven’t the foggiest. Come on then,” the Brigadier said, waving his hand. “Let’s start this way.”

  
  


\---

  
  


The quiet, empty interior of the prison was perhaps even more unnerving than the exterior. The Brigadier and Captain Yates snuck quietly through the halls, weapons drawn, when Yates suddenly grabbed the Brigadier’s arm. 

“Sir, look!” He crossed the corridor to a man lying on the ground. Not far away were two more bodies, and a closed door labeled “Process Theatre”. 

“Dead.” The Brigadier said, having knelt to check the pulse of the first man. Yates, having done the same with the other two, nodded. “These ones too, poor chaps. They look almost as if they’ve been frightened to death.”

The Brigadier nodded towards the door to the process theatre. “The Doctor said something about that ‘Keller Machine’ being trouble, and I reckon this has something to do with it. Let’s—”   
He went silent.   
  


“Sir?”

The Brigadier raised his hand in a shushing motion. “Listen,” he whispered.

From inside the process theatre, a singular voice could be heard, muffled, but familiar. Yates’ eyes widened. “The Master,” he muttered, “Of course.”

The Brigadier nodded and approached the door, motioning for Yates to take position behind him. He silently counted down from three, and then burst through the door, gun raised. Yates followed suit.

“Put your hands in the air and step away from the Doctor!” shouted the Brigadier. 

The Master’s head shot up as he stumbled back for a moment like he had been knocked out of a trance. He quickly regained his footing, facing his empty palms outwards but not making any motions to step away from the Doctor, who was unconscious in a chair in the center of the room.

The Brigadier stepped forward. “I said,” he gestured with his gun, “move away from the Doctor.” The Master still did not move, but his perhaps already faltering confidence was waning.

“He’s out cold, but he’s got a pulse, although it’s a bit irregular,” said Yates, who had approached from the other side to check on the Doctor. 

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!” the Master exclaimed, whipping around to face Yates. His erratic movement was met with the click of two pistols being primed and pointed at him once more, and he froze, seemingly gathering himself together. He straightened his posture and took a breath. “His pulse is normal. The echo you’re getting is because of the two hearts,” he said, trying to disguise the distress in his voice. “He is alive, but he appears to have…” The Master’s voice broke ever so slightly. “He appears to have gone into something similar to a regenerative coma.” 

The Brigadier was not amused by this. “I don’t know what the hell a ‘regenerative coma’ is, but whatever you’ve done to him, if you refuse to step away and allow yourself to be taken into custody, I will not hesitate to shoot! Is that clear?”

The Master’s expression grew furious, as he gestured to the abandoned defibrillator sitting on the work table nearby. “I’m the one who saved his life!” he shouted. “And I’m also the only one on this lump of rock that has any of the knowledge of Gallifreyan biology needed to wake him up! I am  _ not _ letting you cause him harm by fumbling around with your lousy medical knowledge!”

The Brigadier faltered, stunned. Had the Master just said that he had  _ saved the Doctor’s life? _ The Brigadier could believe a lot of things, but the man who was supposedly the Doctor’s greatest enemy being this distraught over his well-being seemed a bit too far. “How do I know this isn’t some elaborate plan of yours?” he inquired.

All of this was sure to make a significant dent in his reputation as someone to be feared and respected. “If this was some— you couldn’t even understand—” the Master sputtered. “—Look, you want proof that I most certainly did not plan this?” He gestured towards the door. “Miss Grant is in cellblock A, number three. She is unharmed, feel free to retrieve her.”

Yates and the Brigadier shared a look of suspicion, but when the Master pressed no further after a few beats of hesitation, the Brigadier nodded and Yates went off to retrieve Jo. 

It didn’t take long for Captain Yates to return with Jo, who upon seeing the Doctor unconscious, rushed to his side. The Master visibly tensed at Jo approaching, but did not move. “Well then,” he stated. “There she is. Do you believe me now?” 

Jo turned around to face the Master. “You! What have you done to him? I swear if you’ve hurt him—”    
  
“I SAVED HIS LIFE, MISS GRANT.” the Master interrupted. He was growing more stressed by the moment. Jo flinched backwards, and so he cleared his throat. “I… do not wish for him to perish,” he spoke slowly . “Not now at least!” he quickly added on, desperate to avoid sentimentality. 

Jo’s expression softened a little, still quizzical and a little concerned, but like she was starting to understand something. She slowly stepped towards the Master.

“Jo, what do you think you’re—”

  
  
“What’s wrong with the Doctor? Something alien?” Jo said worriedly, ignoring the Brigadier. 

The Master seemed to calm somewhat. “...It’s his mind. Everything but basic life functions have been turned off. A full telepathic shut down.” The last phrase was finished abruptly as the Master tried to steady his voice, which was plagued with erratic, anxious breaths. He fiddled with his hands, nervously pulling at the material of his gloves. Jo reached out to lay a comforting hand on his arm, but he pulled away, his face regaining its usual cold expression. “As I was so kindly trying to explain to your UNIT friends, I’m the only one here who knows how to fix this.” 

Jo nodded and turned to approach the Brigadier, pulling him off to the side. The Brigadier looked at her, aghast.

“What the hell are you thinking, Miss Grant? I can’t believe you would—” 

Jo cut him off in a hushed voice. “Listen. I know it seems crazy but… I think the Master really cares about the Doctor. He’s right anyhow, we need his help to fix this. I doubt any doctors on Earth know how to deal with telepathy or whatever he was talking about,” She nodded towards the Master, who was now kneeling by the Doctor’s chair, a gloved hand placed over one of the Doctor’s ungloved hands. He was muttering something that didn’t even quite sound like words, but the worry in his voice was clear. Jo turned back to face the Brigadier, who still looked just as confused. “Please,” she said, putting on her best puppy-dog eyes. “For the Doctor.”

The Brigadier started to speak, but promptly closed his mouth, unable to come up with any response to that. He looked at the Master, looked back at Jo, and then straightened his posture. With a shrug towards the confused Captain Yates, he pulled out his radio. 

“Greyhound to Control One, I need an ambulance at my position. We’ve got one injured and one…” He paused and glanced at the Master, who was still focused on the Doctor. “...emotionally distraught. Over and out.” 

“This day,” muttered the Brigadier, “is just one blasted thing after the other.”

  
  



End file.
